Leap of Faith
by Classy Abigail
Summary: Banished from the Kingdom for loving each other, Bakura and Ryou are stripped of their power and cast down to Earth. However, dark forces are at work in Domino, and what begins as the severest of punishments turns into the most important mission of all.
1. Prologue

They stood side by side, unmoving on the edge of a mighty cliff. Their hands were bound tightly behind their backs, and blindfolds were tied over their eyes, yet they did not seem afraid in the slightest. Their shoulders were rigid, and their mouths were emotionless lines. What once made up their clothing was now reduced to pitiful, tattered rags that barely clung to their bodies, and their pristine, white wings were held close to their backs in a submissive gesture. Pale muscles slicked with sweat were held perfectly still, as if the two were statues.

Behind them was a crowd of enraged onlookers, their eerily similar features all set in anger as they screamed, shook fists, and spat at the two bound ones. They were all wearing garments that glittered like diamonds and shone like sunlight, and their wings were unfurled in rage. The glimmering white fabric matched the long, flowing white of their hair and complimented the light blue of their eyes. Some were very old, while others were quite young, but they all shared the same look of hatred and disgust.

Then, the crowd hushed and parted as two figures moved amongst them to the front. The first was a tall, stunningly beautiful male carrying a large, leather-bound tome under his arm. His hair and eyes were the same as the other's, only there was a certain air of authority and power apparent in the way he carried himself. His wings were twice the size of the others', and they were a beautiful, golden hue.

The being behind him could only be described as resplendent, making his companion pale in comparison. Cloaked in what appeared to be strands of woven sunshine itself, he was far grander than anyone in the crowd, though he had no wings. He stood at least a foot taller than anyone else present, and his build was so masculine and large that any onlooker would deem the host of divine beings surrounding him positively drab. A large, flowing beard of the purest white matched the long mane of hair on his head, and his blue eyes were as clear as a summer sky's. His beautiful face, unlike those of anger and hatred around him, was impassive and calm.

As they approached the two blindfolded males, the one with the book turned to address the crowd. "Friends, I bid you welcome on this glorious morning to an event of great tragedy and sorrow."

The taller of the two on the cliff twitched his mouth, but made no move to interject. A faint whimper was scarcely heard, barely above the lightest of whispers, as the smaller's lip quivered.

"Today, we are here to witness the trial and condemnation of the sinners, Bakura and Ryou," the speaker finished. He snapped his fingers twice, and the blindfolds covering the eyes of the two angels in question vanished into thin air to reveal eyes of the deepest crimson imaginable. A gasp of horror rippled through the crowd, and several raised their hands to mark themselves with the sign of the cross. "These two have committed an unforgivable, unthinkable sin. They have lain with each other!" he accused dramatically, casting a hate-filled glare at them. The smaller one, Ryou, cringed under the stare. The other, Bakura, merely returned the speaker's gaze with equal vehemence. "We will now hear what our Father has to say," he finished in a submissive tone, bowing and stepping backwards as the large, golden being stepped towards the condemned ones.

"Thank you, Nimbucus. Bakura, Ryou. My precious children. You, of course, know why you're here and why this has to be done," he rumbled in a rich, deep bass tone, "All I have to ask of you is whether or not you regret your actions. If you are repentant, there may be hope for you yet." As he finished, he first met Bakura's hard, determined stare before looking compassionately into Ryou's petrified gaze.

"Absolutely not," Bakura spat, bravely meeting his Lord's eyes, "I love Ryou, and no punishment you could deal me would ever make me regret loving him."

"The same goes for me, my Lord," Ryou spoke, voice oddly calm for one who trembled as he did, "I could never regret my love for Bakura."

"Then, as much as it pains me, you certainly are aware of the consequences," he said sternly. At once, there was a sickening ripping sound, and Ryou screamed in agony as his wings pulled forcefully at his back until they tore off, leaving him with two gaping, bloody sockets where they once were. He would have crumpled to the ground if Bakura hadn't caught him under the arms, careful not to touch his back. He growled and groaned in pain as his wings ripped themselves away from his back as well, but he remained upright in an attempt to preserve his dignity.

"From this day forth, you are hereby banished from the great Kingdom of Heaven," the angel with the book declared in a resounding voice, "May it so please God to have mercy on your poor, misguided souls that Lucifer might not further ensnare your hearts."

And with a mighty shove that seemed to shake the very ground they stood on, the Lord shoved them off of the cliff, watching them tumble through the pure, white void of nothingness until it swallowed them up completely.

* * *

**A/N:**

Hello, everyone! Welcome to a project that I am definitely going to take off with. I'm not too sure when, though. Your feedback would be lovely, thank you!

_-Venus_


	2. I: Setting the Scene

**A/N:**

Welcome to chapter two, ladies and gents! Since this whim of mine has turned into a personal challenge of sorts, it is up to you, dear readers, to be on CLICHÉ ALERT. That's right, people, you heard me. If this story takes a turn for the stereotypical, it is now your sworn duty to call me out on it. Oh, but if you do find something,** make sure to leave a suggestion on how to fix it.**

Nevertheless, do enjoy yourselves!

* * *

The bright fluorescent lights of the convenience store dimmed for a split second as a crack of lightning flashed in the sky outside one of the many large windows. Ryou jumped slightly, pausing as he slid a box of crackers into a thin, plastic bag. He shifted nervously in his uniform of a white, button-down dress shirt, a pair of black slacks, and a forest green apron before picking up the next item. "Sure is a nasty storm," he commented.

The customer only glanced at him before returning his gaze to his cell phone.

Ryou smiled kindly at the unresponsive man as he passed a pack of gum over the scanner, dropping the item into the plastic bag. The next item to get scanned was an anniversary card, and he chuckled as he placed it in the bag along with the gum and the crackers. "Happy anniversary, sir," he congratulated the man lightly as he continued to pass items over the counter.

"Could you just finish checking my stuff out so I can get home already?" the man snapped, eyes narrowed.

Swallowing thickly, Ryou continued in silence. "Your total comes to fourteen ninety-five," he stated quietly, pressing buttons on the cash register and holding out his hand to accept the payment. Putting the bills quickly into the machine, he picked out a nickel and handed it back to the irritated customer. "Five cents is your change. Have a nice evening, sir."

As the man snatched the bag from the countertop and hustled out, Ryou pulled at his ponytail with a quiet sigh, accidentally freeing a few strands of his snow white hair. He mumbled quietly to himself about rudeness, looking out at the store with mixed emotions in his odd, red eyes.

Smart Mart wasn't exactly an ideal place to work, but Ryou was grateful for the job nonetheless. Even if he had a better education, he wouldn't want to leave the little suburb where he lived. No, he was perfectly content to stay there, but sometimes he wondered about what it would be like to live somewhere else; more often than that, he wondered what it would like to be someone else. The little glimpses of people's lives he got while working for a small town convenience store made him think about what it would like to have a family, childhood friends, roots, or, hell, even an origin.

_~flashback~_

He groaned quietly, shifting as he felt little pinpricks of pain in his back. Thick covers slid over his chest, exposing him to cold air that immediately woke him. Sitting up, he glanced fearfully around the dark room. It looked to be very small with sparse furniture. A long, cushiony looking thing was pressed up against a wall opposite a small, black box sitting on a little table with drawers. There were two doors; one had a little slot in the bottom and a tiny hole in the middle of it while the other was plain. Across from the long, springy thing he was laying on was a counter with odd markings on it and a big, white box with handles. The man tried to see what else was around him, but it was far too dark.

The plain door opened, and he stared curiously as a tiny person carrying a paperback book shuffled in. The stranger lifted his head towards him and their eyes met. He yelped loudly, putting a hand to his chest. "You're awake!" he exclaimed, hurrying over.

"Yeah, I guess I am," he replied for lack of anything better to say. He stared at the approaching man. He had a slim build and wild spikes of black and blond hair. Upon closer inspection, the very tips of these spikes were a crimson shade. "Your hair is an odd color," he remarked without thinking.

The man raised an eyebrow. "Well, your eyes are an odd color." He shook his head a little before smiling gently at his guest. "Where are my manners? My name is Yuugi Mutou."

"It's nice to meet you, Yuugi. I'm… I'm…," he trailed off, eyes going wide. Who was he? He knew he had a name. He had to have a name. Furthermore, how did he get here? Where was here? What in Heaven was going on? Wait, Heaven? "What…?"

"Is something wrong?" Yuugi asked, sitting down on the bed next to him.

"I… I don't know. Tell me what's going on," he said quietly, folding his hands in his lap, "Please."

"Well," Yuugi began, rubbing his forehead, "Let's see… I found you this morning while I was out for a walk in the woods with my dog. She caught the scent of something and ran away from me. When I finally found her, we were pretty deep in the woods, and she was sniffing around for something. I guess she must have somehow sensed you were in danger, and it's a good thing she did! It was snowing, and if you'd been out there any longer you would have been a goner!" he explained.

"Wait," he interrupted, putting his hand up, "I was in danger?"

Yuugi frowned lightly, moving his hand up to brush against his guest's back. "There were two gaping wounds in your back, just under your shoulder blades. You mean to tell me that you don't remember how you got them?"

"Oh," he replied, "That's what those are." Shaking his head, he moved his arm back in an attempt to touch his heavily bandaged wounds. "I can't remember."

"Is there anything you can remember?" Yuugi asked carefully, as if he was afraid of hurting the other man, "Do you know what country we're in, what year it is, or anything like that?"

He wracked his brains, searching for even a little bit of information. "I remember," he paused, as if studying Yuugi very closely, "I remember that you are a human."

"You're a human, too, though," Yuugi replied with a chuckle, "At least, you definitely look like one to me."

"Huh," he hummed quietly, processing this information, "I guess I am."

_~end flashback~_

Yuugi had to teach him everything from what food was to how to use a crosswalk. He was constantly baffled by how little his new roommate actually knew. The first thing to get sorted out was his name. One day, he had brought home a book of names from the store, and they had sorted through it together. Only two names had stood out to the amnesiac: Bakura and Ryou. Since he couldn't decide which he wanted as his name, Yuugi had told him to use both. Thus the man known as Ryou Bakura came to have a new first and last name.

* * *

"Akefia," a deep voice called, "Come in."

A wild looking man swept through the entryway, scanning the room quickly with his crimson eyes for any potential threats. The only pieces of furniture in the dimly lit room were a few crates stacked against the walls and three folding chairs seated in front of a big, iron desk. Behind the desk was an enormous, leather chair where a man was seated. He had a dark skin color that Akefia knew was from his ethnicity and not from sunlight and eyes that were such a dark shade of blue that they seemed almost purple.

"Atem," Akefia responded as he perched on the edge of one of the folding chairs. He flipped the hood back on his worn, black leather duster to reveal long, spiky, white hair and ghostly pale skin. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked, resting his elbows on his knees and letting his hands hang limp.

"I've got another job for you and Marik," Atem began, "Nothing too big, but it's something I can't entrust to anyone else due to its delicate nature. One of Kaiba's business rivals is in town, and he's been talking about starting a branch of his company here."

"So you want me and Marik to shake him up?" he finished with a feral grin, "My favorite."

"Only a little bit," Atem amended, narrowing his eyes, "I did say it was a fragile situation. We can't make it too elaborate, or he'll suspect Kaiba of sabotage. Something generic, if you would."

Akefia clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Now, now, Atem, you know me. Subtlety is my specialty."

"… Right," Atem agreed sarcastically.

"Speaking of Kaiba, has he found anything lately?" Akefia asked curiously, flicking a stray piece of hair out of his face.

There was a pause.

"No, Akefia," he replied gently, "I'm sorry."

Akefia's face fell. "Oh. Well, if that's all that I'm needed for, I'll be going then." Without waiting for a dismissal from his boss, he stood up and exited the room as silently as a ghost. His heavy boots didn't even make their usual thumping noise on the concrete floor as he stalked down the hallway. All he could think about was how Kaiba hadn't found anything.

Kaiba was an extremely wealthy CEO who controlled nearly all of Domino City's business district. He also happened to be Atem's cousin and an extremely close friend to the powerful leader. Together they held the reigns to all of Domino; Kaiba controlling the world of light and Atem running the world in the shadows. They were an unstoppable force when paired together, and that meant only one thing to Akefia. It meant that Kaiba was able to track down any kind of information in regards to him. Due to the amnesia that hung over him like a fog, Akefia only had memories of the past two years.

_~flashback~_

It was cold. Every exhale from his battered lungs was visible in the frigid air. As he huddled in the dark alley way with white flakes falling all around him, his thoughts were a jumbled swirl of unease and panic. He didn't know where he was; he didn't know how he had gotten there. All he did know was that he was in excruciating pain, and he was as good as dead if he didn't get help soon.

Suddenly, he heard light footfalls coming his way. A few seconds later there was a sharp intake of breath and someone was on their knees next to him. "Holy shit," a stranger breathed, grabbing onto the man's face and pulling it upwards. Their eyes locked. "Oh my…," he trailed off, snaking an arm around the battered man's broad shoulders.

'What?' the man wanted to ask, but he was too numb to speak.

"Who are you? How did you get like this?" the stranger demanded harshly.

He parted his lips to respond, but the words died on his tongue as he realized that he couldn't answer; he didn't know how to answer. With that horrifying thought in mind, he passed out, falling limp in the stranger's arms.

When he awoke again, it was to a warm room and a mountain of blankets piled on top of him. He was positioned on his chest with his face buried in a pillow that smelled faintly of rubbing alcohol. Turning his head, he could see that there was a single chair and a desk in the room. The floors were of a dark metal that was the same as the walls, and there was a blinding light coming from a long, narrow box attached to the ceiling.

"Good. You're awake," the same stranger from before said, stepping out of a shadow in the corner of the room. His steel-toed boots clanked loudly on the floor as he approached the bed. "I was hoping they hadn't killed you during the surgery."

"What?" he asked, feeling his temper rise. Bracing his hands on either side of the bed, he pushed himself up, but a sudden sharp pain in his back caused him to stiffen before gingerly lowering himself back down. Groaning, he turned his eyes back on the stranger. "Who are you?"

"I should be asking that of you," he replied, making his way over to the bed, "My name is Atem."

"I'm…," he stopped.

"You're…," Atem coaxed.

"I don't know," he finished quietly.

"You don't know?" Atem asked in disbelief. When he received no reply, he continued. "No matter. That can be sorted out later."

"Where am I?" he asked, fixing Atem with a dull stare, "And what did you mean by surgery?"

"You mean to tell me that you don't remember how you received two nasty gashes in your back or how you came to be lying in an alley way at midnight?" Atem asked incredulously, shaking his head. When he received no reply, he continued with a sigh, "As I said before, there were two wounds on your back that were bleeding badly when I found you, so I brought you back here for my medics to sew you back up. The stitches might pain you at times, but I'm sure you'll manage."

"Where exactly is here?" he asked, glancing around the room again.

"This is just a spare room that I suppose is yours now. As for this building in general, it is an old, abandoned warehouse deep within inner city Domino," Atem explained, eyes sparkling with something akin to pride, "It was built long before this section of the city turned into the slum it is today. This is where the legendary street gang Millennium is headquartered."

"And," the man in the bed guessed, "You would be their leader, I assume?"

"That's right," Atem confirmed with a smirk, "I like you. You've got intuition. What do you say to joining us?"

"Sounds like fun," he replied, matching Atem's smirk.

_~flashback~_

When it came to the matter of his name, Atem had finally decided to call him Akefia. His reasoning behind it was, though he wasn't an Egyptian by blood, he was such a natural thief that he could have been a tomb robber, thus the Egyptian name. Akefia himself was pleased with the name. He liked the strong yet sly sound of it.

He rose in the ranks of Millennium faster than even Atem himself had predicted, and after a few months, he and another member named Marik became their boss's new right hand men. Atem's previous right hand men were enraged when they found out about the replacement, but they hardly stood a chance when Atem decided that, to settle the dispute, they would fight for their positions.

Akefia fit in well with the other members, but not at first. He was a newcomer with no previous life to speak of, so they perceived him as a dangerous threat. However, it didn't take them long to realize that he was both a perfect criminal and a valuable comrade. Akefia was unwaveringly loyal to Atem, and it seemed as if he had no ambition of his own. The reckless way he threw himself into a fight whenever the command was given had originally unnerved Atem, but he proved himself to be a precise thief who handled thorny situations with the utmost care.

Akefia had everything he could possibly want: rank, valuable possessions, skills, and underlings. Yet, there was still something inside him that seemed to be tugging at his very soul, telling him that his life was very much empty indeed.


	3. II: Memories

Ryou yawned, pushing himself up from the couch and stretching his arms above his head. A very faint glow of light was coming from the window, indicating to him that it was still early enough in the morning that Yuugi would still be a zombie for a few hours. He swung his legs around, his feet hitting the floor without making a sound, and stood up. For whatever reason, Ryou found himself never able to sleep past five in the morning, but he was never able to fall asleep until around three. However, he always woke up feeling alert and refreshed after only two hours of sleep every night. Yuugi was as much of a morning person as he was a night owl, meaning that he was never awake to remark on Ryou's odd sleeping pattern. Ryou never told him, either. He was enough of a freak already in his caretaker's eyes.

Treading lightly into the little kitchenette, Ryou put a new filter in the coffeemaker and filled it with fresh grounds before turning it on. He hated drinking the stuff; it was way too bitter. Yuugi seemed to need it every morning as if it was the only thing keeping him alive. "To each their own," Ryou said to himself cheerfully, rummaging around in the little mini-fridge for his bottle of chocolate milk. Unlike coffee, chocolate milk was everything a person could want in a breakfast drink; it was sweet, cold, thick, syrupy, and it tasted like cocoa. He quickly poured himself a glass and went over to the window in the living room to look outside, careful not to wake Yuugi on the bed. The window had an impressive view of the city because Yuugi's apartment was very high up, and only a few cars could be seen driving on the street far below due to the early hour.

Ryou looked over at his sleeping housemate. He was eager for Yuugi to wake up so they could start the day. Today, neither of them had to go in to work at Smart Mart, so they were going to spend the day trying to discover anything that would jog Ryou's memory. The two years or so he had spent living with Yuugi had been very hard; the time it took to heal his wounds completely coupled with the time it took to be taught how to integrate himself into society had kept him very occupied, not to mention working at Yuugi's store. But, in the past few weeks, he had grown restless. He longed to learn of his past so badly that sometimes it was all he could do to keep from screaming and going insane. All Ryou needed was a clue or a hint as to what his life had been like or how he had ended up abandoned in the woods.

"I just need a sign. Some kind of clue. Anything. Please."

He looked up into the sky as he murmured his desperate plea, not entirely sure who he was asking for help.

* * *

Hours later, Ryou was waiting patiently by the door in his light blue rain slicker and matching galoshes while Yuugi finished buttoning up his own light purple coat. Shortly after Yuugi stumbled into the kitchen for his coffee, the sky had opened up and began to shower the city with a steady rain that had held up for a few hours already. As it wasn't showing any signs of letting up, the pair had decided to push on with their quest for Ryou's memory.

After riding in the building's elevator for a few minutes, they finally reached the ground floor and stepped out onto the wet sidewalk. Ryou and Yuugi both simultaneously put their hoods up over their heads and stared up at the gloomy, gray sky.

"Where are we going to try first?" Ryou asked, eager to get started.

Yuugi bit his lower lip in thought. "Hmm. Well, I was thinking we could try the Rec Center."

"Rec Center?" Ryou asked curiously, "Like, as in recreation?"

"Yeah, it's a community building where they put together groups for sports like tennis and stuff," Yuugi explained, leading Ryou down the sidewalk towards their destination, "There's also a gym and a cafeteria, I think. You can sign up for gymnastics classes or participate in a running group. I guess you could say it's a hub for community activities."

As Yuugi rambled on about the Rec Center, Ryou tried his hardest to hang onto the man's every word. His thoughts kept straying, however, and soon he became engrossed in his own thoughts. What kind of life did he lead before he had lost his memory? Was he a star athlete for a sports team? Maybe he had a rival who wanted him out of the picture. That would explain why he had been injured so badly. Of course, if someone had meant to get rid of him, he or she would have gone for a vital point instead of slashing up his back. Maybe someone really hated him, and that person had wanted him to suffer as he died. A shiver ran down his spine.

"Something wrong?" Yuugi asked, touching his shoulder in concern.

"Oh, no," Ryou replied with a smile, shaking off his thoughts, "I was just thinking."

"Well, we're almost there!" Yuugi said excitedly, "I can see it up ahead!"

The Rec Center was a big, domed building with tropical trees planted around it and a set of sliding glass doors right in the front. The pair jogged towards it as the rain picked up and began to pour harder than it had all day long. They stepped gratefully through the doors and pushed down their hoods. Shuffling his feet on the mat to dry off his boots a little, Ryou gazed around at the interior. People were milling around in the lobby with all sorts of sporting equipment. There were strong looking men carrying gym bags, fit ladies with water bottles, people wearing artist smocks toting paint sets and canvases, and many, many others. Ryou tried to imagine himself doing any of these activities, but he couldn't recall ever doing any kind of activity represented in the lobby.

"Come on," Yuugi said, motioning for him to follow. They walked up to the registration counter where a friendly looking woman sat with a telephone in one hand and a pen in the other. She was chattering hurriedly to someone and scribbling information down onto a piece of paper. Yuugi smiled at Ryou as they waited for her to be finished. Ryou returned his friend's look with a smile of his own. He truly was blessed to have a great friend like Yuugi who was so eager to be helpful.

"What can I do for you gentlemen today?" the woman asked once she had put her phone down.

"Could we please look through the list of activities?" Yuugi asked politely.

"Oh, of course you may," she replied, swiveling around in her chair and digging through a stack of binders. She selected the thickest one in the pile and handed it to him. "Feel free to have a seat over there," she said, pointing towards a group of sofas and chairs in a corner of the lobby.

"Thank you," Yuugi replied, taking the binder and leading Ryou over to where she had indicated. He gave the binder to Ryou. "Give me your coat so I can hang it up."

As Yuugi left to hang their jackets up, Ryou opened the binder and began pouring through the colored photos and descriptions of the activities, hopeful that he would find some kind of clue. He tugged at the hem of his black, long sleeved shirt as he read over a paragraph describing fencing. His eyes paused at the words "sword fighting". Other than a slight twinge of pain in his temple, the words did nothing for him. With a frown he turned the page. This paragraph was on gymnastics. The pain increased a little bit but not by much. Ryou frowned.

"Something wrong?" Yuugi asked, taking a seat next to him on the couch.

"Just a little headache," Ryou assured him, but suspicion laced his voice as he elaborated, "But it only started when I read the part about fencing. Just now, as I was reading this paragraph, it got worse."

Yuugi made a little noise in the back of his throat. "That's odd," he remarked, "Keep going. Maybe it'll happen again."

Yet, in spite of their best efforts, Ryou's headache subsided and he didn't react to any of the other activities. With a sigh, he flipped to the last page, which was on an activity called "Cross Country". As he read about the sport, a running competition over rough terrain, he felt another little twinge of pain. Other than that, they had exhausted the entire book fruitlessly.

Ryou slipped on his rain jacket as Yuugi returned the book, feeling defeated. Fencing, gymnastics, and Cross Country running. He wasn't familiar with the sports at all, and no matter how hard he thought about it, he couldn't remember whether or not he had participated in any of these activities in the past. His mind, as always, remained locked tightly.

Yuugi came back, and together they left the Rec Center. Their next destination was the Domino City train station. Ryou attempted to cheer himself up; they still had a whole day left to search for clues to his past.

"You said the activities, other than give you a headache, didn't remind you of anything," Yuugi asked suddenly as they walked.

"Nothing," Ryou confirmed, wondering what Yuugi was getting at.

"Well," he continued, "Maybe it isn't the sport so much as the concept that gave your memory a little kick start."

"We don't know that my headaches were because of that," Ryou pointed out.

Yuugi gave him a skeptical look. "When have you ever gotten a headache before?" he asked.

"Well," Ryou began, knowing Yuugi had a point, "I guess you're right."

"Of course I am," Yuugi declared. "Now, as to fencing. Ever been in a sword fight?" he teased.

Ryou concentrated very hard, picturing everything from swords to armor to people fighting. All of a sudden, the twinge was back, and he thought he could see a very magnificent sword in his mind's eye. It looked to be crafted out of silver, but even silver didn't shine as beautifully as this blade did. Who would wield a sword like that? His mind raced. He could almost literally feel the answer as a heavy weight upon his mind, waiting just beyond the edges of his memory for him to discover.

"Ah, Yuugi," Ryou began carefully, but he stopped abruptly and rushed to the window of a shop they were passing. What had caught his eye was a fetching white gown in the display case of a bridal shop. It was made of several layers of a gossamer fabric, and some gold threads had been sewn into the top layer to give it an ethereal glow. He pressed his fingertips to the glass, and a phrase suddenly popped into his head. "Like woven sunshine," he whispered in a disbelieving tone.

"I don't think it's that pretty," Yuugi remarked from behind him, casting a critical eye over the garment.

His trance was shattered. Ryou ripped his gaze away from the dress and gave Yuugi a despairing look. "I could almost feel it, Yuugi!" he wailed, causing several people passing them by on the sidewalk to stare, "It was so close!"

Yuugi shushed him, putting an arm around his shoulder and forcing him to keep walking. "What was so close? Calm down and tell me, Ryou."

Ryou attempted to halt his racing thoughts. For a few moments, he had held an unearthly beautiful picture in his head. Though, thinking back, it hadn't really been a picture. It was a color, the purest white he could ever imagine, and it glowed with a golden hue. He had never seen such a beautiful color in his entire life. Or, rather, maybe he had. "When you asked if I'd ever been in a sword fight, I pictured a rather impressive sword that seemed to glow with an odd power."

Yuugi gave him a funny look and opened his mouth to speak.

"Let me finish, please," Ryou cut him off, not wanting to be rude but needing to piece his thoughts together verbally. "I began to think of who would own a sword like that, but then that gown in the window caught my eye. The color of it," he paused, gathering his thoughts, "It made me think of a color similar to it, yet there's no way it was the same."

Yuugi stared at him for a moment, seemingly deep in his own thoughts. They continued walking, and Ryou could already see the top of the train station building. It was a massive clock tower that tolled the hour. He knew because he could always hear it faintly all the way back at the apartment. "I have no idea," Yuugi said after about a full minute of silence, "I really have no idea how a sword and that color could go together."

"Neither do I," Ryou admitted, suddenly upset with himself for not being able to remember something more helpful. If only Yuugi hadn't interrupted his thoughts, maybe he would have remembered more.

"Still," Yuugi continued cheerfully, "Progress is progress!"

Ryou smiled at his companion, mentally berating himself for thinking of him as a hindrance.

As they walked into the train station, Ryou was shocked at the sheer number of people that were packed into the depot. Of course, he had only been to the train station one other time, and that was just because Yuugi was explaining to him what trains were. That had been a while ago, and not as close to a holiday as it currently was. Everyone traveled home for the Christmas season to be with their family. Ryou felt a pang of deep sadness in his chest, but he ignored it. He wanted to have a family, too.

"So, I figure we should start with the map," Yuugi suggested, breaking Ryou out of his brooding thoughts.

"The map?" Ryou asked, realizing that Yuugi had been talking the entire time he had been lost in his thoughts.

Yuugi stared at him. "Yes, Ryou. The map. To see if you recognize any of the places on it. Duh."

"Oh, right. That map," Ryou replied, trying unsuccessfully to save face.

The pair stepped up to the information desk and waited for the attention of the man operating it. He, much like the Rec Center woman, was talking hurriedly on the phone and writing down information onto a piece of paper. They waited for a few minutes, but he didn't seem to notice them. Ryou was about to get fed up and leave, but Yuugi grabbed his attention by pointing to a brochure rack off to the side of the desk. The two walked over and began rifling through the leaflets and fliers.

"Aha!" Ryou declared, pulling out one that had a picture of Japan on it, "Map!"

"Good work, Ryou!" Yuugi told him happily, taking the map from Ryou's hands and unfolding it, "Let's see here now. Any names look familiar?"

"Well, here's where we live now," Ryou said musingly, pointing to a little dot that was labeled Domino.

"Helpful," Yuugi murmured sarcastically.

Ryou ignored his friend's comment and began to scour the page for any names that caught his eye. There was Tokyo, but that name was only familiar because that's where Yuugi had taken him shopping for new clothes shortly after his wounds had healed enough to allow him to walk comfortably. His eyebrows furrowed as he kept scanning the paper. He had to have lived somewhere. So, why wasn't anything looking right? "Is it possible that I'm not from Japan, Yuugi?" he asked.

Yuugi seemed to mull this over for a few seconds. "Well, you certainly don't look like a typical Asian person," he remarked, referring to his pale complexion and white hair, "But you speak perfect Japanese. Do you know any other languages?"

Ryou shook his head. "Not that I know of."

Yuugi pointed up towards a sign hanging from the ceiling. It read "Line 5" in four different languages. "That sign is also printed in English, Korean and Chinese. Can you read any of them?" he asked.

"Um." Ryou looked up at the sign, trying to make heads or tails of the writing. He knew what they all meant only because the message was printed on the top in Japanese. "No way."

Yuugi sighed. "I guess that answers that question. So, we're going to have to assume you grew up in Japan, but your parents are foreigners."

Ryou nodded, feeling dumb. "You're really smart, Yuugi."

"Hey, it's like a puzzle," Yuugi replied with a big smile, "You know how I am about puzzles. And your riddle, Ryou, has got to be the toughest one ever."

* * *

Much later, as the sun was just dipping below the horizon, Ryou and Yuugi trudged down the mostly empty sidewalks, feeling utterly defeated. Aside from the weird headaches, the sword, and that mysterious color, they hadn't had a single, strong lead all day. Ryou was nearly about ready to give up, but apparently those words weren't even in Yuugi's vocabulary.

"There must be something, Ryou," Yuugi insisted, a determined look on his face, "What haven't we tried?" At Ryou's silence, he continued, "Well, let's start with what we have tried. We did activities, places, languages, foods, clothes-,"

"No sign of that color anywhere," Ryou added at the mention of clothes. The dress in the window had been the closest they had come to that particular memory. They had even gone back to the shop, but Ryou hadn't gotten a headache and no new memories surfaced. "Once and done, apparently."

"Literature, pets, scenery, music," Yuugi continued as if he hadn't heard Ryou's complaint.

Ryou knew Yuugi well enough to know that the man was only rattling off his little list for his own benefit. He did his best thinking verbally, which could be a blessing as well as a curse. On one hand, you always knew what was running through his head. On the other hand, you always knew what was running through his head. The guy would never shut his mouth once he got rolling. So it was with a clear conscience that Ryou tuned him out and focused on his own thoughts.

He had expected to find at least one conclusive clue as to who he had been. All he had gotten was a sword and a color, and no matter how he worked it around in his head, he still came up with nothing. How on Earth could those two fit together? Did he wield that sword and wear that color? Was the sword itself that color? And he didn't even understand what kind of significance the sword could possibly have. No one fought with those anymore. They collected things like that, or wrote stories about them, or painted them. No one actually fought with swords anymore. Did they?

He hadn't been a writer; the "literature" part of Yuugi's list had proved to be very helpful in revealing that. And he hadn't been a musician, either. Ryou had dismissed the idea that he might have been a painter as soon as the thought had surfaced in his head. He didn't have an artistic bone in his body.

"Religion!" Yuugi yelled suddenly.

Ryou startled, whipping his head around to look at his friend. "What did you say?"

"Religion," Yuugi repeated happily, "We haven't tried that yet."

Ryou didn't want to get his hopes up, but something deep down inside of him told him that it was a good idea. "Why not?" he conceded. The idea felt right to him in a way he couldn't place.

"Good. There's a Christian church a few blocks over," Yuugi announced, picking up the place with renewed vigor. "I can't believe I didn't think of it until now. Of course, you don't strike me as a very religious person, and Japanese people aren't very religious to begin with. Though, now that I think about it, that would support the theory that you weren't born into a Japanese family."

Ryou smiled as Yuugi started thinking out loud again. Really, he couldn't help but laugh. Yuugi was treating this as if it were just another puzzle that needed to be solved, and with the right formula, the answer would appear readily for him. He might have been insulted if he wasn't so grateful. Yuugi really was a genius; why he wasted his time being the manager of a convenience store was anybody's guess.

"Since Christianity isn't a major religion in Japan, I don't really expect anything to happen. Maybe if we visited a Shinto shrine or a Buddhist temple, it'd spark your memory. Ah, but the church is the closest to where we are right now, so we'll head there first regardless."

"Hey, Yuugi," Ryou said, stopping Yuugi's thoughts in their tracks.

"Yeah?" he replied curiously.

"I thought we'd decided that my parents aren't from here, so why is it more likely that they're Buddhists?" he asked with a sly smile. Yuugi may have been a genius, but sometimes his thoughts overlapped without him noticing, causing him to forget things he may have just said.

"Oh!" Yuugi remarked to change the subject, "We're here!"

Ryou's retort died on his lips as he tilted his head up to gaze at the steeple on the church. It wasn't a very large or impressive building, but something about it called to him so that every nerve in his body reacted. His fingertips tingled and a steady pulse began in his head. "We have to go inside," he declared, not taking his eyes off of it for even a second.

"Not a problem. I think it's open right now," Yuugi said as he started forward to push the door open.

As soon as they walked inside, they were greeted by a man wearing black slacks, a black dress shirt, and a clergyman's white collar insert. "Good evening, gentlemen," he said, taking Yuugi's hand and shaking it. "What can I do for you?" The man moved to shake Ryou's hand, but he had already disappeared into the sanctuary.

"Please don't mind him," Yuugi said politely, "He's just looking for something. Would you mind if I asked you a couple of questions, though?"

Ryou was grateful for Yuugi's distraction. He walked slowly down the aisle towards the altar, gazing around in awe at the meager yet beautiful decorations. The wooden pews all had red cushions on them that matched the blood red carpets, but the altar dressings were pure white. He sat down heavily in the first pew and held his head in his hands as the throbbing increased.

He saw white. Pure, shining white all around him that seemed to reach out into infinity. The sky above was the clearest shade of blue he had ever seen in his life. His mental vision focused and the white took on shapes. It was like being in a forest of clouds, almost. In the middle of it all stood a figure with snowy white hair. Him. He saw himself running around amongst the clouds, and by his body language, he looked anxious. Had he lost something? Ryou wanted to see his expression, but he wouldn't turn around. He just kept popping in and out of the puffy shapes, calling something. Was he lost, or had he lost someone?

The memory blurred and began to change. He was walking up an enormous flight of chiseled marble stairs towards a gleaming structure made out of the same material as the stairs. The sight filled him with a sense of reverence and a feeling of guilt, but he didn't know why. As he reached the top, he saw a giant of a man sitting on a magnificent throne. Ryou gasped, and the memory shifted again.

The sight before him took his breath away, but he forced himself not to react for fear that the vision would change again. There were hundreds, no thousands, of people that all bore a striking resemblance to him. Their clothes were all of the mysterious color from before, and they were flying over a sparkling utopia. Great white wings sprouted from their backs, slicing through the air with speed and accuracy as they swooped, dived, and glided through clouds and on air currents.

"Ryou!"

Ryou was flung out of his memories and all of a sudden he felt cold and unhappy, as if something beautiful had just been ripped away from him. His hands felt clammy against his skin, and when he removed them, his head felt very heavy. It was now pounding worse than ever before, and he was afraid he was going to throw up.

Yuugi knelt down in front of him and put his hands on either side of his face. "What's wrong, Ryou? I was calling to you for nearly ten minutes! I was so terrified something had happened to you!"

"W-what?" Ryou stammered. His tongue felt impossibly thick.

"You've been sitting like that for almost half an hour, Ryou," Yuugi told him in a questioning tone, "I got that pastor to leave us, but I was afraid I'd have to get him back here to help me snap you out of it. Were you in a trance?"

"I think," Ryou began, swallowing thickly, "I think I saw my memories."

* * *

**A/N:**

Le gasp! Chapter three has arrived in grand fashion! Since I've finished with my older project ("Sophomores, Freshmen,…"), that makes this story my main priority. How special! I really think you ladies and gents are going to enjoy the little ride I have planned for you all.

Thank you for reading this, and do leave me a review, won't you? It excites me~

Oh, and **if anyone is interested in being my BETA READER, **I'd be more than happy to try you out. I really need one, you see. Like, really.


	4. III: Discovery

Akefia stepped out onto the pavement, breathing in the crisp scent of the early morning air. It was warm for a late December day, and the air was tinged with a heaviness that promised a forthcoming rain. He narrowed his eyes into slits when he heard approaching footsteps behind him, heavy and deliberate. There was only one person he knew who would make that much noise so early in the morning: his partner.

"Marik," he accused, spinning around on his heel to glare at the man, "Why do you insist on being so damn loud? This is a stealth mission, is it not?"

The man raised a blond eyebrow scathingly. He, like Akefia, was dressed in all black leather, a dark colored duster jacket, and heavy boots that laced up to his knees. "You don't need to tell me what my job is, you bastard. Besides, I have no reason to sneak up on you." He ran a hand through his wild, blond spikes and fixed his pale blue, almost lavender, eyes on the sky. "Shitty day for sabotage."

Akefia relaxed visibly, glad that Marik was willing to change the subject. Marik may have been a homicidal maniac, but he knew how to pick his battles. "Tell me about it. When duty calls, we answer. Especially when it's Kaiba doing the calling."

Marik huffed his agreement, and the pair set off down a back alley. The walk was quiet for the most part, as both men were wrapped up in their own thoughts. Akefia was thinking about what he always thought about anymore. He was sick of just sitting by idly and waiting for Kaiba to come through. Usually with matters involving Kaiba, the man was prompt and accurate, delivering the desired information in less than a few hours. This, though, was just plain ridiculous. Two whole years of searching, and no one could come up with anything in regards to who he was and where he had come from? Akefia scoffed at his thought, making Marik give him a strange look.

"What's your problem?" he asked rudely.

Akefia rolled his eyes, brushing off his partner's constant attitude. "What's always my problem?" he retaliated, tone lacking his usual venom.

They lapsed into silence once more, though this time the quiet was uncomfortable. Marik fidgeted with a strap on one of his armguards for nearly two full minutes before speaking up again. "It makes no sense that Kaiba hasn't been able to find anything."

Akefia leveled a glare at him. "Why do you insist on filling the silence?"

"You're such a little bitch," Marik retorted, sounding a little put out by his partner's harsh remark, "You know that? I was only trying to help you, but I guess you don't need my help. Why would you need your best friend's help, anyway? You're perfect fucking Akefia, Atem's little pet."

Akefia sighed, knowing that he would get nowhere with Marik when he was so worked up. The blond was a dangerous killer, deadly with guns and knives alike, but he was also incredibly temperamental and even the tiniest bit clingy. Technically speaking, they were supposed to be merely partners, but they were forced to be together nearly around the clock, making it seem to everyone else as if they had become an inseparable pair. It wasn't that he minded his partner necessarily. No, it was more like he had been forced into a twisted mockery of friendship based on their ability to commit an efficient murder. No one else in the base wanted to be near either of them because of how quickly and skillfully they could maim, gut, or slice a victim. Thus two outcasts had been forced together and their little relationship had begun.

"Cut the bullshit, Marik," Akefia said in a weary tone, "You know it isn't true. If you want to talk, we'll talk, but why does it have to be about me?"

"Because I think I can help," Marik replied with a grin.

Akefia's head snapped towards his partner, and his eyes lit up. "You do?"

Marik faltered as if taken aback by Akefia's response. "Well, it's worth a try, isn't it?"

As they walked, heads began to turn in their direction. Their job was just on the outskirts of the inner city, where the lower middle class citizens lived. Though the citizens were used to seeing people from inner city Domino, members of Millennium rarely left the heart of the inner city unless they were in disguise. Nevertheless, people recognized them for who and what they were. Marik and Akefia had made no attempts at blending in at all; their full-length leather dusters with the hoods drawn up made them a suspicious sight enough without their clunky boots and weapon belts. People gave them a wide berth as they walked down the sidewalk, allowing them to continue their conversation undisturbed.

"Suppose so," Akefia agreed, part of him unwilling to allow himself to hope while the other screamed for the possibilities.

"Have you ever heard about the one killer who murdered thirty people in one night?" Marik asked.

Akefia raised his eyebrows. "Why ask?"

"This is how I'm helping," Marik declared proudly, "I'm going to tell you about famous crimes I've heard about, and maybe they'll jog your memory. No one gets as skilled as you are without testing their abilities at least once or twice. I figure that you might be one of the bastards in the stories I've heard, but you just don't remember anything."

"Clever," Akefia commended, surprised that his partner had come up with such an idea. Then again, Marik was a very clever man. He just hid it well. Remarkably well.

"So have you heard about that one?" Marik continued, seeming to glow a little from the praise.

"Nope," Akefia replied, "Why'd he do it?"

"For no damn good reason at all! And the best part? He did it all with a nine iron!" Marik finished with something akin to gleeful admiration in his voice.

Akefia wrinkled his nose. "That wouldn't really be my style." He never did anything of that nature without a reason, and he earned the nickname "Soldier" around the base because of it. Unless Atem ordered it, he wouldn't do it. It was as simple as that, and he never questioned it.

Marik looked thoughtful for a moment, staring up at the sky as it began to drizzle lightly. "I guess that's true. Well, how about this one? A couple of years back, someone broke into Domino Tower."

"Kaiba's Domino Tower?" Akefia asked incredulously.

"The one and only," Marik continued, "Anyway, the guy didn't even jack anything! He just broke in, gave security a little run around, and left!"

Akefia mulled it over a little bit but came up short. "No way would that be me. Again, it seems a little pointless, doesn't it?"

Marik looked crestfallen. "But it does sound like something you'd do. He didn't hurt anybody or take anything. Just ran in and ran out to prove a point."

"Look, Marik, I appreciate it," Akefia said honestly, "But I don't think this is going to work. Anyway, we're almost at our spot. Let's just get this over with so we can go back."

Marik looked as if he wanted to argue but thought better of it, instead settling for a grimace.

They walked the rest of the distance in silence, finally stopping once they were outside of a plain office building. It looked nice enough with a row of neatly manicured hedges and a well-kept sidewalk out front, but their business wasn't with the building. A quick sweep of the area told the pair that their real target, a black business car with a little flag fixed to the roof, was minimally guarded around the back. Their job was to rough up whoever was watching the car and steal some non-essential parts in order to intimidate the vehicle's owner, a business rival of Kaiba's. There was a reason Kaiba Corporation held a monopoly over the city of Domino, and it wasn't just because they made superior products.

"I'll take him out," Marik whispered from their hiding place a few feet away, "You get started on the car."

"No casualties," Akefia repeated sternly, knowing how his partner could be.

"Yeah, yeah, Mother," Marik mumbled, and in the next instant he was gone, executing an impressive diving tackle on the guard and rendering him unconscious in the same move.

In that same instant, Akefia rushed for the car, using his dagger to deftly pry off a hubcap. He grunted, throwing his whole body into the movement, and was rewarded with a satisfying cracking noise as the cap broke free from the wheel. Marik joined him a moment later, using his knife to slash the driver's side door.

"That guy was packing some insane heat," Marik informed him, bringing his foot down on a mirror and snapping it clean off, "We're talking a goddamn semi-automatic, two pistols, and a machete! Even we aren't that well armed!" He threw a punch, succeeding in cracking the windshield a little bit. "We've got two minutes tops."

"We won't need that long," Akefia told him, mind racing as he worked on the second hubcap, "Get the hood and the trunk."

"Right," Marik agreed and stomped on the front of the car to leave some impressive dents before vaulting over the roof to work on the back.

As he fought to pop the third hubcap off, Akefia heard the sounds of a struggle, but he was too engrossed in his task to care. Marik could handle himself for a few more seconds without help. He finished swiftly before rounding the vehicle and coming up on an unlikely sight. Marik was on the ground, struggling with what looked to be a large blur of yellow fur. One of his large, tan hands finally managed to clamp around the thing's mouth, and as he proceeded to pin it down, Akefia realized that it was a dog.

"Bad puppy," Marik scolded, holding its head against the ground, "That is not how you make friends."

"Uhm, Marik?" Akefia interjected, "Need help?"

Marik shook his head. "This dog has a lot of fight," he stated, "Whoever trained him obviously knows what he's doing. Look in the car for me, would you? There should be some kind of whistle or something to call him off."

Akefia did as he was asked, breaking the passenger side window and popping open the glove compartment. Sure enough, a tiny, silver whistle was laying on the top. He pulled it out, turned it over in his hands, and gave it a quick blow. Instantly, the dog Marik was fighting with ceased struggling and fell limp.

Marik stood up, brushing off his pants as he did so, and snatched the whistle from his partner's hand. "I'll take that." He inhaled sharply and was about to give a tremendous blow when Akefia grabbed his elbow.

"Don't," he cautioned, jerking his head to the side to indicate the guard who was still lying limp on the pavement, "We'd better get moving. Let's break the car a little more, grab whatever else is in the trunk, and go."

Marik looked down at the dog, who had shifted into a laying position and was now looking up at them with large, brown eyes. Akefia quirked an eyebrow at it, and it sat up obediently. "Akefia," Marik began slowly, moving to go pat the dog's head.

"No," Akefia said simply, pointing at the car, "You get the window. I'll get the trunk and the hubcaps."

Marik put his foot through one of the back windows, never taking his pleading eyes off of Akefia for a second. "I named him Seamus."

"Shouldn't it already have a name?" Akefia asked as he gathered up the car parts.

"No," Marik replied just as the guard began to stir. They watched him sit up with matching expressions of shock at the time they had wasted, and Akefia knocked him back out with a swift blow to the head. As he fell back down, the pair looked at each other. "Please," Marik tried again, desperation creeping into his tone.

"Whatever. We don't have time for this," Akefia replied stiffly, and they were off in a flash: Akefia holding the hubcaps, Marik carrying an armful of guns that had been found in the car, and the dog trailing behind them faithfully.

"Shit ton of guns in that trunk," Marik remarked breathlessly as they rounded a corner, finally making it back into the inner city.

Akefia nodded his agreement before stopping short and fixing the dog with a strange look. "Why did it follow us?"

Marik looked offended as he stopped walking as well and replied, "Because he loves me, dumbass."

"I'm being serious," Akefia deadpanned.

"So am I, right, Seamus?" Marik asked, ruffling the dog's floppy ears.

Seamus blinked back at him, tongue lolling out of the side of its mouth.

"Atem isn't going to like this," Akefia said with a groan, wiping his face with his hand.

"Hey," Marik argued, "We got him some guns. Nice ones, too, by the looks of it."

"That's not the point," Akefia retaliated, "All we know about that dog is that it was trained to kill anyone who got near that car." He shot the dog a glare, and it shifted uncomfortably. All of a sudden, a curious expression worked its way onto his face. "Hey, Marik, see what else it can do."

"Um," Marik began, thinking, "Sit?"

Akefia shot him a disbelieving look. "It's sitting already."

"Oh. Yes. Well, lay down, then!" he said, pointing at the dog.

It obediently dropped to the floor, ears perked for further orders.

"Bark, Seamus!" Marik commanded roughly.

The dog whined and let out a loud bark.

"So you're trained," Marik mumbled curiously, "Well enough that you won't even bark without permission." His eyes lit up with amusement. "Akefia! He's just like you!"

"Shut your damn mouth," Akefia snapped back, glaring at the pair, "Atem won't let you keep it."

"Oh, yes he will. Just as soon as I train Seamus here to be a killing machine," Marik informed him before turning his attention back to the dog, "Seamus, do you want to become a mindless killing machine? Huh? Do you? Who's going to maim without abandon? You are!"

The dog jumped up at the tone of his new master's voice. He danced around happily for a little bit before jumping up, putting its front paws on Marik's shoulders, and licking his face thoroughly.

Akefia slapped a hand to his forehead.

* * *

"So, let me get this straight, Marik," Atem said wearily, lacing his fingers together in front of him, "Akefia comes back with four hubcaps and seven semi-automatic shotguns, and you come back with a mutt?"

Marik's eyebrows furrowed, and he crossed his arms. "Seamus isn't a mutt. He's a cold-blooded killer."

Seamus, who was busily sniffing at Akefia's ankles, snapped his head up to look around at the people in the room. He trotted over to Atem's desk and began to sniff it interestedly, tail wagging wildly.

"Of course. How foolish of me," Atem deadpanned, clearly not amused, "Setting aside the question of why our target even had this dog in his car, I trust the rest of the mission went well?"

"Of course," Akefia spoke up, "We made sure the damage to the vehicle was extensive. If he comes back into town, he'll just get more of the same."

"Good," Atem replied, turning his attention back to Marik, "You're allowed to keep it on one condition."

"The condition being?" Marik asked coldly.

"Cool it, Marik," Atem reprimanded sternly, "Don't forget your place. You may keep him so long as he doesn't inconvenience anyone. That means you feed him, you walk him, you clean up after him, and you ensure that he doesn't become a liability if you ever take him out on the job, which I suspect you will."

Marik grinned. "Deal. Come on, Seamus," he said, clicking his fingers and turning away. Seamus ran after him as he left, stumbling over his paws as he hurried to keep up.

"So," Atem said as soon as Marik had shut the door behind him, "Anything else I should know about?"

"I'm just as confused as you are," Akefia said with a shrug, shifting his weight to his other foot as he stood, "Not only was the guard heavily armed, but they had an entire arsenal in their trunk as well as an attack dog?"

"It's curious," Atem agreed, putting two fingers to each of his temples as if it would help him think, "This requires further investigation."

"Was that all you wanted to know?" Akefia asked, turning to leave.

"Not quite."

Akefia sighed, turning again. "What else is there?" he asked somewhat testily.

"Are you alright?" he asked, giving him a head to toe examination with his eyes as if checking for anything amiss.

"Barely a scratch on me. Marik was the one who handled the guard," he quipped, turning to leave again.

"Are you alright mentally?" Atem pressed, one corner of his mouth turning up in a knowing smirk.

Akefia sighed. "Damn it, Atem, I don't know. It's frustrating as hell."

Atem rose from his chair, walking around his desk to stand face to face with his charge. He clapped a hand to Akefia's shoulder. "Why don't you go take a walk to clear your head? You've had far too many jobs lately, and the stress is getting to you. I'll loan you some nicer clothes, so leave our part of Domino for the evening."

Akefia raised an eyebrow at his boss. "And what am I supposed to do in upper Domino?"

"Beats me," Atem admitted, looking at him fondly, "But you might surprise yourself."

* * *

Akefia looked at himself in the mirror, twisting in all directions to see himself from different angles. He looked strange; he was dressed in a pair of black slacks and a blood red button up shirt that matched his eyes. Since they were Atem's clothes, he didn't believe the match was intentional, but who knew with that man. He didn't think he looked too bad, in any case. Of course, he wasn't going to give up his boots, which were laced up underneath the pants. And there was no way he was going unarmed, either. He had also concealed a gun in the waistband of his pants and a long knife along his back.

It didn't take him long to make it out of the slum known as the inner city. He knew every ally and street like the back of his hand, not to mention he was quicker than lightning, so it only took him a few minutes to make it to the nicer part of town. Domino was set up in sort of like a target; there was an outer ring, a middle ring, and the center. Unlike on a dart board, however, the center was where the filth of the city lived. Right now, he was walking through the middle circle; it was a nicer part of town, cleaner and friendlier than the center, but it wasn't the best of Domino. Akefia didn't know yet if he was going to continue walking towards the outer layer, known as New Domino, but it was something to consider. New Domino was where the upper class citizens lived. Even from the inner city, the gleaming skyscrapers could be seen rising up over their own crumbling towers and buildings.

Akefia let his large, black umbrella rest on his shoulder, and he watched with a lazy expression as the water fell in buckets around him. He could've said he pitied the people rushing about around him for not having umbrellas of their own, but he didn't. Not really. Pity wasn't an emotion he felt because he rarely empathized with anyone. The last time he had even come close to it was when Marik had been laying on the operating table after a job gone awry, gritting his teeth in agony as a medic tried to dig a bullet out of his shoulder. He could empathize with something like that, but only because he had been in the same situation before.

He passed by a large building that was brightly lit, the fluorescent light cutting through the darkness of the storm. It was a convenience store, by the looks of it. Akefia cocked his head to the side, silently mouthing the name of the building. "Smart Mart." He shook his head and continued walking, snorting at his thoughts. Mesmerized by a convenience store.

A gasp escaped his throat, and he stopped short in the middle of the sidewalk. There, on the other side of the street, were two people wearing brightly colored rain jackets and running down the sidewalk, most likely towards somewhere they could dry off. He couldn't pinpoint why these people elicited such a reaction from him, but he decided quickly that it was worth looking into and gave chase with his sharp eyesight. There weren't many people outside because of the storm, so it wasn't hard to keep his sights on them. The one in the purple jacket seemed to be supporting the one in the blue jacket. Was he hurt?

Akefia crossed the street and began to follow them, never letting his eyes leave the one who appeared to be injured. Soon enough, they turned and went into an apartment building. It was nice enough on the outside, with sliding glass doors and an attractive brick structure. Akefia waited a few moments before stepping in, taking note of his surroundings subtly. The lobby was furnished well enough for a building in the middle circle, and there was an attendant by a desk who seemed a little overworked at the moment. The two figures that he was following stepped into the elevator, and Akefia schooled his features so that his disappointment wouldn't be evident on his face.

Just before the doors shut, however, the one in the blue jacket turned. Crimson met crimson, and Akefia forgot how to breathe.

* * *

**A/N:**

A bit of a fanfic for you, a bit of a review for me? I pushed this out pretty quickly for you loves, seeing as how I'll be on vacation next week. You know what that means? BEACH FIC!

Many thanks to _Chaos Ride _for the beta job! Love you long time!~


	5. IV: Heart and Mind

Ryou squirmed, watching as Yuugi bustled around the apartment, hanging their things up to dry and fixing two cups of hot cocoa. After they had left the church, he had been stumbling and disoriented from his out-of-body experience, and to make matters worse, they had gotten drenched by the storm the moment they stepped out. He had been absolutely miserable; rain and Ryou didn't mix. Then, he had seen the man outside of their building.

He let his head fall back to the arm of the couch he was laying on, fighting back the urge to voice his frustrations. The elevator doors had shut just as he had locked gazes with a man with a haunting pair of crimson eyes that were identical to his own. In that instant, he could have sworn he had felt more memories at the edges of his mind, but the contact had been broken too abruptly for any of them to actually take shape. Now, he was left to guessing and wondering who that man could have been and why he was so significant.

Yuugi interrupted his thoughts at that moment, throwing a warm, wool blanket over him and handing him a steaming hot cup of his favorite drink. Ryou inhaled the scent of melted chocolate with a hum of appreciation. "Yuugi, you're the best," he mumbled, taking a cautious sip of the scalding hot liquid, "I mean that from the bottom of my heart."

"You're only saying that because I gave you hot chocolate," Yuugi returned with a lopsided smile on his face before walking back over to the kitchenette.

Ryou smiled and curled up under his blanket, taking another sip of his hot chocolate. A frown crept back onto his face as his thoughts returned. By the time he had slammed his finger on the button to take the elevator back to the lobby, the man had left. Oh, if only he had stayed! Ryou tried to picture those eyes in his mind again, so strikingly similar to his own and yet so different at the same time, but he couldn't. He had seen cool, calculated curiosity with a hint of bitterness in the man's gaze. There was an edge to them that Ryou found both startling and intoxicating at the same time.

"Thinking about him?" Yuugi asked suddenly.

Ryou jumped, finally noticing that Yuugi had sat down beside him and was nursing his own cup of hot chocolate. "Oh. Yeah."

"I don't know, Ryou," Yuugi said thoughtfully, "Do you want to try and find him?"

"What are the odds of us actually succeeding?" Ryou asked in frustration, letting out an impatient huff, "The one time I find someone who might be able to help me, and he disappears!"

"I think we'll find him again," Yuugi tried in a comforting tone, "Now that we know what to look for. What do you say? Tomorrow, we'll go out again and ask around."

"Alright, Yuugi," Ryou agreed with a sigh, "I hope you're right."

Much later, as Yuugi slept soundly in his bed, Ryou sat on the ledge of the apartment window, looking out over the city. Soft snowflakes were falling gently past the glass, spiraling down to the streets below. The sight gave Ryou his first real sense of peace since they had began their little hunt for his memories that morning. He listened calmly to his roommate's measured breathing, subconsciously matching his own breaths to it. He allowed his thoughts to stray back to the mysterious stranger he had seen earlier again. There were some emotions he had felt when he looked into that man's eyes that he just couldn't explain to Yuugi. His breath had caught in his throat, and his heart had felt heavy. That was just not a normal reaction to seeing someone he'd never met before. So, supposing they knew each other, the next logical question would be how. Or maybe, Ryou thought, what was that person to him. He sighed, breath fogging up the glass of the window a little bit. Yuugi was the puzzler, not him.

"Tomorrow," he whispered, pressing his fingertips lightly to the window.

* * *

Akefia snarled, kicking his boots off and all but tearing his borrowed clothes from his body. He flung them down on the bed and roughly yanked a pair of gray sweatpants on. Disarming himself with less care than he normally would, he threw the knife at the wall, imbedding it deep with a satisfying thud. The gun he had brought with him clattered to the floor, and he kicked it under his bed. "Damn it all," he growled low in his throat, cracking his knuckles to ease some of the tension he felt. He had been so close to his memories when he had spied that kid in the elevator! When their eyes had locked, Akefia had felt like he had been slammed to the ground. That gaze, just as startled as his must have been, had floored him, rooting him to the spot. Just thinking about it made him want to scream.

This was how Atem found him. The leader stepped carefully into the room, concern written all over his face, and walked carefully around the clutter in the room to stand in front of his charge. "I take it you didn't have a satisfying night?" he asked bluntly.

Akefia snarled again, rolling his shoulders to let some energy out. "If you're going to interrogate me, let's do it in the sparring room. I need to let loose."

Atem simply nodded, and the pair left the room without so much as another word. The walk was deadly silent until Atem turned off the main hallway towards his quarters to fetch his work-out clothes. Akefia went on without him.

He loved hand-to-hand fighting. There was something so pure and simple about cutting completely loose against someone who was an even match in skill. Unfortunately for him, the only two people in the base with skills to rival his own were Marik and Atem. He began wrapping his knuckles carefully in preparation for his bout with his boss. There was going to be no holds barred tonight; he needed this. Something about that damn kid had gotten his blood boiling, and he was angry in a way he didn't know how to deal with. It wasn't that he was mad at the kid himself, exactly. No, that would have been easy enough to deal with, but just seeing him had sparked some kind of need to fight within him that was different from all of the other times. This wasn't the kind of need to fight because he was ordered to that he was very used to. This was an urge to fight born from his own will.

_Fight for him._

Akefia blinked and looked around. He could have sworn he had heard something. But there wasn't anyone else awake at this time of night, so it must have been his imagination. With a curt nod, he resigned himself to the task ahead as Atem walked in, already bandaged and ready to fight. He was dressed similarly in a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeved shirt. Akefia didn't like to wear shirts while fighting if given the option.

"So, you ready to deal with this?" Atem asked, flexing his fingers individually as he took his place on the opposite side of the mat.

That was another thing Akefia loved about fighting Atem; not only was the man as strong as him, but he could usually beat some sense in to him, as well. Made him think about things while he worked his body over.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Akefia replied with a nod.

Atem rushed him, something Akefia hadn't been expecting at all, and he barely had time to bring his arms up to block his face as he was knocked forcefully onto the ground. "How did it happen?" Atem asked calmly, stepping back nimbly as Akefia's leg barely missed his ankles in an attempt to take him down.

"Our eyes met just as he was going up in an elevator," Akefia replied gruffly, jumping up and aiming a punch that Atem misjudged and was hit in the ear with. "Some apartment building in the Middle."

Atem countered his punch with an uppercut that hit him square in the jaw. "So, at the very least you know where he lives."

Akefia worked his jaw momentarily, satisfied when he noted that it wasn't damaged beyond bruising, and let loose a flurry of jabs and punches aimed at Atem's torso. The majority of them hit their mark, but Atem got in a good swipe to the side of his head before dodging back. Akefia smirked somewhat bitterly. "I do, but I can't exactly just stake out the place until he comes back down."

"And why not?" Atem asked as they circled each other, both looking for an opening.

"Because," Akefia replied a little too loudly, launching himself in and tackling his boss to the ground. He pinned him long enough to say "It's too close to the inner city" before Atem reversed their positions.

"So you were recognized?" Atem asked musingly as he struggled to keep his opponent down.

"No, but I'd start to look suspicious, wouldn't I?" Akefia spat, offended that his boss would question his spying skills. He used his legs to kick Atem off, landing a solid blow to his sternum as he did so. "I'm not exactly innocent looking."

Atem remained on his back for a few seconds too long, and Akefia was afraid he'd hurt him seriously. Then, his boss staggered to his feet and raised his fists, cocking an eyebrow in invitation. Akefia grinned as he rushed him, but Atem sidestepped him and knocked him on the back of the head. Stars exploded in Akefia's vision. "So," Atem asked while his opponent was momentarily stunned, "What did you feel when you saw him?"

"Good," Akefia replied with a gasp, shaking his head in a vain attempt to correct his vision. He held up a hand to signal that he needed a few seconds. "Jesus, Atem," he mumbled, rubbing his head. He shook again, hair tumbling around his shoulders, and nodded that he was ready to continue. "I felt strong when I looked at him, I think. Like I had some sort of purpose."

"That's a lot to get out of a brief moment of eye contact," Atem remarked. Akefia rushed him again, but this time he was ready for it. They grappled with each other, hands locked tightly as they both tried to push the other back.

"I think it was a bit of my memory awakening," Akefia ground out, throwing all of his effort into trying to push Atem. He was rewarded as Atem let go and was flung back, hitting the mat with a dull thump.

"You have to go back, then," Atem said, pushing himself up into a sitting position and looking up to meet his opponent's eyes, "and I'll go with you."

"Of course I'm going back," Akefia replied, tilting his head to crack his neck, "But why do you want to come with me?"

"Oh, come on, Akefia," Atem drawled, pushing himself into a standing position and raising his fists again, "I want to be there for you when you get your memories back."

Akefia was stunned by his words, and his guard dropped long enough for Atem to find an opening and throw a mean right hook, catching him in the side. Akefia grunted, throwing a fist at Atem's jaw. There was an odd cracking sound and both men looked at each other. Atem poked at his jaw experimentally a little bit before slamming his palm into it. He worked it around to ensure that no further damage was done, and then he blind sighted Akefia with a jab to his middle that knocked the wind out of him.

"Way to go, Akefia," Atem said sarcastically as his opponent fell down on the mat, "I show you a little bit of affection and you dislocate my jaw."

"You really meant that?" Akefia asked once he could breathe again, propping himself up on his elbows. He couldn't wrap his mind around Atem saying that he wanted to be there for him. That was just not something Atem did.

Atem offered him a hand that he gladly accepted. "Of course I meant it," he grunted, successfully hauling Akefia up off of the floor, "You've been with me for a while, and I'm kind of attached to you. Call it parental affection if you will."

Akefia dusted himself off as he mulled that over. He did sort of see his boss as a mentor, but he could never think of the man as a parent. For one thing, he was an advocate of tough love, which would probably be considered abuse if the man ever had children. Then there was the matter of him being a famous crime boss. No way would any woman be okay with that and marry him. Akefia shook his head. "You're no father, Atem."

Atem frowned lightly. "Be that as it may, I'm still coming with you. Tomorrow morning?"

"Tomorrow morning," Akefia agreed halfheartedly, but it wasn't because he objected to the idea. He was just damn tired. When Atem wanted to work something out of him, he worked hard. Akefia stifled a groan as he felt the beginnings of bruises all over his body. Sure, they'd go out tomorrow, but only if he lived through the night.

* * *

**A/N:**

Kind of filler-ish, I know, but I wanted to write a chapter that was solely their reactions to seeing each other. Alas, no smutty tendershipping for my readers yet! Be brave, dear readers, and send me your love!

A thousand kisses go out to Chaos Ride for the beta job!


	6. V: Bakura

**A/N:**

Some readers who have been with me longer will remember that whenever I begin to see someone new, I tend to drop out of life for a little while and focus all of my attention on that person. I'm really, really sorry, but it happened again. It's been a little over a month, but I'll try to get back to updating at a normal-ish rate for you lovely, lovely people! Please be gentle with me in your comments.

Please enjoy your sappy story!

* * *

The sun was just coming up over the horizon as Ryou slipped silently out of the apartment door. He walked lightly down the stairs instead of taking the elevator to the ground floor; the exercise did him some good in helping him calm his racing thoughts. He had woken up that morning feeling very off. For one thing, he had slept past five by a half an hour, which he'd never done in his entire life to his knowledge, barring the time he had spent sleeping the days away whilst recovering from his wounds. He had woken up with the strange foreboding sensation of dread weighing down the bottom of his stomach. Somehow, he had just known that he would have to find the strange man by himself. There was just something about the situation that he didn't like, and there was no way he was going to do anything to put Yuugi in danger.

The frigid morning air hit him like a smack to the face, and he took a deep, shuddering breath. It wasn't supposed to snow today, and Ryou thought to himself that maybe it was just too cold to snow. He hugged his arms to his chest, snuggling himself deeper into his fluffy parka-style coat. The faux fur that lined the hood tickled his nose, but he was grateful for the warmth. Fighting back a wince as a stab of pain shot down his back, he began to walk down the sidewalk in the direction that would eventually take him to the inner city. When it was especially cold outside, his wounds would start to hurt, but at worst it was only a minor annoyance.

Ryou barely passed anyone on his way towards the inner city. Well, he supposed he should have expected that for a bitterly cold morning in late December. The city's schools were off for winter break, so the only people he saw were businessmen and women on their morning commute to work. He exhaled and watched as his breath swirled up into the air before disappearing as he walked, trying to distract himself from how nervous he was. Ryou hoped in his heart that the man he was seeking out was good-natured and friendly. It would make his task that much harder if he wasn't.

The inner city was a dank, dreary place, and Ryou had never been too far into it before. If he was being perfectly honest with himself, he would have to admit that he was afraid of it. Gangs were known to patrol the streets at all hours of the day and night. With a shiver, Ryou stuffed his hands into his pockets and kept walking. His grand, master plan was to wander around aimlessly until he found who he was looking for. All he had to go off of was the person's deep, red eyes. Granted, that wasn't much, but he'd never seen anyone with eyes identical to his own before.

Swallowing audibly, Ryou pressed on, completely unaware that he was being watched.

* * *

Akefia watched with his breath held as his double wandered down the sidewalk, pressing deeper and deeper into the inner city. From his hiding place in a dark alleyway, he could clearly see the little puffs of breath coming from the little one's mouth as he walked. What was the idiot doing? Was he looking for him? Akefia crept quickly down the alley only to emerge at the mouth of another as he continued watching. With his small stature and girlish looks, he was an easy target for any sick freak wandering by. Akefia felt himself getting mad at his double. What kind of idiot walks unarmed and unescorted into the depths of inner city Domino?

A sheltered idiot.

Akefia snorted quietly, not wanting to give himself away. He had first seen the brat in a building in one of the nicer sections of the middle city, so of course he wouldn't be hardened to the tough life the way inner city residents were. A surge of protectiveness overtook him, and it was all he could do to not leap out and snatch the poor thing up. He forced himself to remain hidden, studying the other from afar as he mentally beat down the foreign emotion.

Though bundled up in a heavy jacket, Akefia could tell that he had a slender build, probably complete with small shoulders and a tiny waist. He looked to be about half a foot shorter than himself, too. His double looked like he could almost be a girl, but there was no sway in his step to indicate that he had large hips. Akefia promptly stomped down a very vulgar thought that had just popped into his head and hurried to keep up with the other man.

His double stopped and looked around then, clutching himself nervously. In a trembling voice, he called out a hesitant, "Who's there?"

Akefia's breath hitched. His double had a sweet, oddly high voice for a man, but there was no doubting that the timbre of his voice was male. It did funny things to his stomach, and he almost turned and ran right then and there, but he remembered his mission and resolutely emerged from the shadows. He saw rather than heard the other gasp, hand flying to his mouth. "You," he whispered, the stiff winter breeze carrying that melodic sound to his ears.

"Me," he replied simply, stopping mere inches from his double. He reached out to run two fingers up the littler one's jaw, gently pushing his hood back so that he could see his face. Soft, delicate features, illuminated by the light of the rising sun, framing those all-too-familiar crimson eyes greeted him, gazing into his with wonder and awe. "Who are you?"

"Ryou," he breathed, inhaling deeply and letting a soft smile appear on his face. It was as if the sun had really risen, fully and suddenly, at that moment; Akefia felt as if his insides would melt just from the sight of it. "And you are.. Bakura," he said finally, eyebrows drawing together as if he was confused.

"I'm called Akefia," he replied quietly, letting his fingers trail back to touch the other's jaw again, "But that name sounds familiar to me." Maybe that was his real name. Akefia frowned a little as he turned that thought over in his head. Maybe this Ryou knew more than he did himself about the situation.

"It sounded familiar to me, too, a while ago," Ryou said cryptically, facial features twisting as if he was puzzling something out in his mind, "I suppose that could make it your name, couldn't it?"

"You know that I don't remember my original name," Akefia stated quietly, almost reverently, "Which means that you probably couldn't remember yours either at one time. Right?"

"You…" Ryou trailed off with a confused look on his face, wringing his hands as he thought.

Akefia nodded at Ryou's unspoken question ever though he had no idea what the little one was trying to ask him. He was unable to stop himself from skimming the pad of his thumb over Ryou's cheek. He'd never been this touchy in his life with anyone before, which was a very clear indicator that he and Ryou had shared some kind of a past. "We should talk about this somewhere safer. Come with me?" he asked, finally dropping his hand from Ryou's face only to offer it to him.

Just as Ryou put his gloved hand in Akefia's calloused one, another figure appeared from the shadows. He had the typical stance of a street rat, and by the looks of it, he was holding a rather long knife. Akefia rolled his eyes. How very typical.

"Morning, gentlemen," the man greeted in false politeness, cackling in a high pitched voice that was far less appealing than Ryou's gentle chime. "Drop your valuables, and I'll let you go with all your limbs."

Akefia's eyes darted to the side when he felt Ryou's hand tightening in fear; the little one was edging behind him subconsciously. He raised his head, putting on a bored look as he addressed the newcomer, an odd sensation of something akin to pride swelling in his chest. "Do you have any idea who I am?" When his only response was another cackle as the man waved his knife in the air, Akefia rolled his eyes. Obviously not. He frowned slightly, taking another backwards glance at Ryou, who was huddling behind him in a way that would seem adorable in any other circumstance. If he pulled one of his own knives on the man and sliced his throat open, Ryou might not be nearly as trusting of him as he currently was. Damn, and he'd wanted to kill this insolent bastard. Ah, well. He'd just have to commit the man's face to memory for now. He fixed the bastard with a glare that could freeze fire that slowly morphed into a malicious grin as he spoke. "I trust you've at least heard the name Akefia before." Ah, at last, a glimmer of recognition and fear in their attacker's eyes. "Leave before I change my mind about gutting you. I don't want to scare my companion here, you see, but I could be persuaded if you'd like."

The man ran for his life, and Akefia breathed a sigh of relief. He really hadn't wanted to traumatize his obviously innocent double, so he was glad the man hadn't had the gall to stick around. Speaking of, he felt a tugging on his arm and looked down into concerned eyes. "Would you really have done it?" he asked, soulful eyes boring into him.

Akefia almost squirmed under the scrutiny. "If it had become necessary to keep you safe, absolutely."

Ryou looked uneasy, but he nodded anyways. "Where do you want to go?"

* * *

Ryou really couldn't believe his luck. First of all, he had found the man that he had set out to look for not that long at all after he had left his apartment. Second, that person had saved him from being attacked by a stranger with a knife; the tone of his voice when he had been threatening the man sent pleasant shivers down his spine that he didn't care to read into any time soon. Lastly, the two of them were currently sitting in a mostly deserted café eating bagels and sipping coffees. Well, Akefia had gotten a coffee. Ryou opted for his usual hot chocolate. So no surprises there.

He couldn't help but be a little disappointed, however. None of their interactions thus far had sparked any kind of memory within him, and Ryou was feeling a little discouraged. However, every time he and Akefia had locked gazes, a little thrill shot through him and made his head feel fuzzy. That had to count for something.

"So," Akefia started, swallowing a big gulp of coffee, "You said that my name is actually Bakura. How do you know?"

Ryou licked his lips briefly, Akefia's eyes following the movement, before he began. "Well," he said hesitantly, "I suppose I should start at the beginning. Okay?" Akefia nodded interestedly, urging him on. "You see, I have amnesia, and I can't remember anything beyond two years ago when I was found injured in the woods."

"That sounds familiar," Akefia muttered into his drink.

"You, too?" Ryou asked in surprise.

"Yeah. Sorry for interrupting," Akefia apologized, "Go on."

"Ah, alright," Ryou said, thinking quickly about how to word his thoughts. "I was taken in by a really kind person who helped me recover from my injuries. He also helped me go through a list of names since I couldn't remember mine. Well, it turns out that the only two that I recognized were Ryou and Bakura, thus my assumption that your name is Bakura and mine is Ryou."

"I see," Akefia, no, Bakura replied, staring musingly out the window of the café.

The seconds ticked by in silence, and Ryou wriggled around in his chair, feeling very uncomfortable. He'd never told anyone his story before, and he didn't want Bakura to think he was a crazy person. Still, they had some kind of connection, so maybe he wouldn't think that. "Ah," Ryou said hesitantly, startling Bakura out of his thoughts, "I'm sorry. What are you thinking?"

"Oh, sorry," Bakura replied, his expression brooding, "I was just thinking about my own situation. I can't remember back more than two years, either, and I was also injured when I was taken in. I had always thought it had been from some gang or whoever that wanted me gone. That's why I joined Millennium; that and the fact that I had nothing better to do with myself."

"I see," Ryou replied, suddenly curious, "How were you injured, Bakura?"

"Two gashes on my back around my shoulder blades. Pretty deep, too," was his reply.

Ryou gasped, eyes lighting up. "That's where mine were!"

"This is so odd," Bakura replied defeatedly with a shake of his head, "I mean, I've always wanted to find out about my past, but now that I'm actually here and it's happening, I'm even more confused. My old explanation can't be right now that I know about you."

"How come?" Ryou asked, puzzled.

Bakura fixed him with a doubtful look. "Why would anyone hate you enough to stab you twice and leave you for dead? And, even if they had, why would they leave you so far away from where I was left?"

Ryou hummed, forehead creasing as he thought. "It's so confusing." His expression softened and he looked up at Bakura, obviously catching the man off guard by the way he stared back with wide eyes. "I'm really glad I found you, though, Bakura."

Bakura's cheeks turned a light shade of pink, and Ryou stifled a laugh.

"You know, I'm kind of surprised that meeting and talking to you didn't trigger a memory," Ryou remarked, taking a bite out of his bagel.

"What do you mean?" Bakura asked, fixing him with a confused look.

Ryou returned his expression. "You mean that's never happened to you? Something around you triggers your memory, and you get a pounding headache and a flashback," he explained weakly, feeling more upset than he should have that Bakura hadn't experienced it, too.

"I guess it might've happened," Bakura offered, looking concerned, "Don't look so sad, Ryou."

"No, it's fine," Ryou assured him, still frowning in spite of himself. He had a thought suddenly, and before he could think it through fully, his mouth was working. "Um, would you want to maybe come with me to a church service tomorrow? I don't know if you've ever been to one before, but I was in a church yesterday, and a lot of my memory came back to me."

Bakura was silent for a moment, seemingly surprised by the question. "I guess I'm not doing anything," he conceded finally, "I can come to your building tomorrow morning if you'd like. I'll probably be there really early, though, seeing as I never sleep past five in the morning.

Ryou's eyes widened. "Same here."

Bakura laughed. "This is just weird. Even if we knew each other before we lost our memories, how can we have all of this stuff in common?"

Maybe we lived together, Ryou thought to himself, fighting down a blush.

* * *

Unless we were closer than we think, Bakura mused, looking straight into Ryou's adorably embarrassed eyes. He was suddenly struck with the irrepressible urge to kiss him, and so he leaned in slowly, asking Ryou's permission with his eyes. Ryou, blush intensifying, slipped his own eyes shut as they moved closer together.

Their lips met gently, Bakura catching Ryou's bottom lip between his own. As soon as they made contact with each other, Bakura's head exploded in pain. He grunted, pulling away from Ryou so that he wouldn't accidentally hurt him.

The world went white. It was the purest white he'd ever seen in his life. Bakura looked all around him, but he couldn't see anything. Very slowly, the expanse of white shifted and made objects that looked to be buildings. They were all very tall with enormous cut-outs that looked to be windows. One in particular caught his eye, and he focused on it as the buildings became clearer and clearer. He began walking towards it, his large wings angling themselves behind him so that they wouldn't hinder his movement. As soon as he reached the base of the building, he unfurled his wings and beat them a few times to gather momentum before propelling himself strongly up into the air.

The sensation of flying felt like an old friend to him. The rush of the wind in his ears was a pleasant feeling coupled with the way his stomach felt like it had dropped out. The ground, if the puffy white things could be called ground, was getting farther and farther away from him, but his gaze was fixed on the top window of the tower. He slowed himself down just as he reached it and carefully stepped through it into the room.

An impossibly large bed was in the direct center of the room, and on that bed was Ryou, using his arm as a pillow and sleeping soundly. It was obvious that he was fatigued by the way he was sprawled out on the comfortable looking material, lips parted slightly as he slept. Bakura walked into the room further and sat down on the bed next to him. Being careful not to jostle him, Bakura positioned himself over Ryou and began placing kisses on his exposed collarbone. Ryou squirmed a little, and a breathless moan was the only other indication that he had felt it. Bakura then ran his hands up Ryou's chest underneath his loosely fitting cloth shirt, peeling off the garment as he went. Hot desire flashed through his body as Ryou moaned loudly, shifting his position so that he was flat on his back.

To Bakura's disappointment, the memory shifted and reverted back to reality after that, and he found himself once more in the coffee shop. His head was in his hands, and Ryou was fretting over him at his side. He shook his bangs out of his face and sat up straight, blinking blearily.

"Are you alright, Bakura?" Ryou asked, laying his hand over Bakura's own, "What did you see?"

"I'm alright," Bakura replied, remembering acutely the feeling of Ryou's soft skin against his hands. He turned to look Ryou in the eye, both desire and confusion plain on his face. "We were lovers."

"We were?" Ryou squeaked embarrassedly, going back to his seat nervously. Whether it really was from nerves or from a desire to put distance between them, Bakura couldn't say. He hoped the former but believed the latter.

"I saw our room. We were definitely together," he stated simply, wisely keeping the other details to himself. Really, if Ryou got any redder, he might actually explode. "And I was flying."

"What?" Ryou exclaimed, earning a disapproving glance from the waitress at the counter. "How is that possible?"

"We had wings, Ryou," Bakura said, leaning in so that he wouldn't have to talk as loudly. "We both had wings, and I was flying."

Ryou frowned and looked as if he was about to cry. "I don't understand."

Bakura bit his lip. Of course he had been curious about his past, but he had never gone desperately looking for answers. From the way Ryou was reacting to the mystery of the situation, it seemed to him that the poor thing was really upset by not knowing. With good reason, he amended his thoughts, but hysterics wouldn't get either of them anywhere. He leaned in again, placing a light kiss to Ryou's pale pink lips. He felt his newfound partner's intake of breath, but seeing as he wasn't being pushed away, he continued his action slowly, savoring the moment.

No new memories surfaced, but that was just fine. In that little café on the corner of the street in the inner city, what Bakura and Ryou had discovered in each other was far more valuable than any memory.


	7. VI: Trouble

**A/N:**

Haven't got much to say this time around. Please enjoy your latest installment!

* * *

Atem hustled to keep up with his charge, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his black coat as the two walked at a brisk pace down an alleyway. The biting winter air was uncomfortable to breathe in, yet Atem did so heavily, almost relishing the pain it brought. It was with chagrin that he mentally reviewed the orders that he had begrudgingly let Akefia give him. He was allowed to follow along at least until they found the man they were looking for, at which point Atem would make himself scarce. It had been made clear to Atem from the very beginning of the day that this was a one-man mission, no matter what circumstances arose. Something about not wanting to scare off their target and blah blah bullshit. Atem wasn't happy with it at all.

He huffed indignantly at his thoughts, raising his eyes from the pavement to focus on what was in front of him rather than below him. A chuckle escaped his lips at how easily he could parallel that thought to his situation. Focus on the task ahead rather than issues either beneath him or otherwise not under his control. Atem thought that sounded awfully poetic of him, and he smirked smugly.

"What in Hell's name are you so damn proud about?" Akefia demanded in a hushed voice, not even turning his head to regard his superior.

Atem frowned slightly, affronted by his charge's reprimanding tone. "I'm not Marik, you waste of life. Don't talk to me in that tone."

Akefia looked back at him then, the look on his face suggesting that he was a bit startled. Atem thought it was laughably possible that Akefia had indeed forgotten who his tagalong was currently. The moment passed soon enough, however, and his subordinate turned away again with a wave of his hand.

They halted suddenly, first Akefia stopping short and Atem almost bumping into him. Akefia's head snapped to the right, and he peered out of the alleyway at something Atem couldn't see. "Showtime, Atem," he said simply, creeping out towards the mouth of the alley without another word.

With perfect reaction time, Atem deftly swung himself up onto a rusty fire escape that was leaning precariously off of a nearby building. With all the agility and silence of a cat, he climbed up and up until he was on top of the roof. It was a reasonable distance up, but this building was one of the smaller ones in the area. He'd be able to see perfectly what was going on from this height. Mentally congratulating himself on picking such an excellent spot, Atem dropped himself down and crawled over to the edge of the roof to overlook the scene before him.

Akefia wasn't anywhere in view, but a person of small build and stature was meandering slowly down the opposite sidewalk with seemingly no destination in mind. Atem immediately marked him as the one that his charge had been looking for. His hood was drawn up, and he seemed to be huddled into himself. Low tolerance for the cold weather could mean a number of things, but Atem's guess was that he was either leading a privileged life or had a delicate constitution. The third option, both, didn't escape his mind, however, but Atem deduced that he was probably just frail due to how tiny he looked.

The figure stopped abruptly and seemed to be staring towards the space between the two buildings where Atem could only theorize that Akefia was hiding in. Poorly, he amended with a touch of sadness. Either Akefia had wanted to be found or he hadn't disguised himself well enough.

The figure called out hesitantly, obviously unsure of what to make of being stalked by a stranger in the inner city. Atem watched as Akefia stepped out into the light, crossed the street, and came to a standstill beside the target. Akefia nudged the hood off of the other man, and Atem's eyebrows shot up as locks of snowy white hair identical to Akefia's tumbled down over his coat. So they were similar, exactly as Akefia had said. Interesting.

They exchanged words for a few moments, and Atem was starting to get a little bored. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone slinking along the alley the way they both had come earlier. He was very obviously armed and maybe slightly drunk. Atem snorted. Honestly, this town. His attentions turned back to Akefia and his companion, wondering in amusement how his charge would handle himself.

Akefia noticed him first, posture tensing as his head snapped towards the approaching man. Atem couldn't help but be amused at the fact that Akefia's lookalike, started by Akefia's obvious alarm, was now clutching the larger man's hand and edging behind him in obvious fear. "Hm," Atem said to himself aloud, voice barely over whisper, "Never would have pegged that bastard to go for the distressed damsel type." His calculating eyes hadn't missed the way that Akefia was handling his newfound acquaintance, treating him as if he were made of delicate crystal. "Interesting."

From what he could tell from up that high, the drunken idiot didn't seem to know who Akefia was, which marked him as even worse than an idiot. Akefia had something of a reputation amongst the inner city. You just flat out don't mess with anyone from Millennium unless you had a death wish, but you especially didn't cross paths with the infamous Akefia. Quite frankly, Atem was surprised that his charge hadn't slit the man's jugular with a throwing knife yet.

The reaction was instantaneous. One moment, their attacker was posturing and waving his knife around in the air. Then, Akefia said something with a disgusting grin on his face that would have made Atem shudder had he not seen it many times before. In a split second, the man was running for his life back the way he had come. Atem had half a mind to follow him and teach him that Millennium never let an opponent get away once a challenge was issued, but he was currently more interested in the relationship unfolding on the street below.

Akefia talked with the other man briefly again before leading him down the sidewalk by the hand. Atem watched them turn down a street and realized that they were headed out of the inner city. With an indignant huff, he straightened up and brushed off his pants. So, they were taking their little affair somewhere more private? Fine by him. He had damage control to do. Atem turned away and nimbly climbed back down the fire escape and onto the street below. Pausing a moment to listen for footsteps, he continued down the street.

Tracking the drunkard who had attempted to assault Akefia proved to be far easier than Atem would have hoped. The man was making no attempt to muffle the sounds of his movements at all, perhaps falsely believing that Akefia had been alone. Unsheathing the long, straight knife from the side of his leg, Atem stalked down a back alleyway, noting with disdain that, in the stranger's attempts to flee, he had overturned a few trash cans and numerous cardboard boxes. Smashed bottles littered the asphalt, as well. The indignity of it all left a bad taste in his mouth. Surely this man wasn't affiliated with any gang worth its salt.

After mere minutes, Atem came upon the stumbling idiot. He had been in the middle of pulling a flask out of his jacket pocket to no doubt take a swig of whatever he had been taking hits of all day when he noticed the presence of the powerful leader. Bloodshot eyes locked on to the poised form of Millennium's head and dilated in fear. "Who are you?" he called out, fear and alcohol making his speech slurred and weak.

"My name is Atem," he conceded politely and, in his opinion, quite graciously. Raising his knife up, he pointed it at the man's heart. "Fortunately for you, my friend spared your life earlier. I will have to talk to him about that. We of Millennium never let an adversary emerge from a challenge unscathed. Unfortunately for you, I'm here to do his job for him."

The man cringed, holding his head in his hands and waiting for Atem to strike. When nothing happened, he looked up in confusion.

Atem chuckled darkly at him. "Draw your weapon, sir, or were you not raised to fight fairly and honorably?"

With the deliberate slowness that only comes from one preparing to die, the man reached into his coat and pulled out a small pistol. Atem's eyes narrowed suddenly as he noticed the muscles in the man's arm tense in preparation to fire. In the blink of an eye, Atem was dodging to the left as a bullet came whizzing by his head, mere centimeters from where his forehead had been. "Impressive aim for a drunk," he muttered, drawing his arm back and throwing his knife with deadly accuracy. It imbedded itself deep into his enemy's chest cavity, felling him instantly. His body writhed for a few gruesome moments before stilling.

In the eerie silence that followed, Atem walked slowly up to the body and slid his knife free, letting loose a steady flow of hot, red blood that steamed in the cold air. He wiped it on the dead man's jacket before sheathing it in the strap on his leg. He was about to turn away, but something pinned on the man's jacket caught his eye. Stooping low, Atem examined it carefully, realizing that it was a logo of some sort. His eyes widened as he realized what it was. In a heartbeat, he had whipped out his phone and hit the first button on his speed dial.

On the third ring, a man's voice, level and deep, answered. "Kaiba here."

"Cousin, it is as we feared," Atem said gravely, "They are gaining momentum in the inner city; I just killed one of their underlings. He was drunk and probably not on duty, but he was wearing their emblem."

"You are certain?" Kaiba asked, voice betraying his uncertainty.

"Positive. I'll take the body in for examination?" he asked, nose wrinkling at the thought.

"Go ahead. It might yield some kind of information to us."

With that, he terminated the call and immediately began dialing a new number.

"Yo, boss?"

"Marik, I need you to call some underlings and get them to come pick up a body," he instructed before giving the address and telling him to be discreet about it. It wouldn't do to have the whole group in an uproar just yet. Trouble was afoot in Domino, and for once, Atem was concerned.


	8. VII: Kingdom Come and Gone

Bakura laughed, holding tightly onto Ryou's hand as they walked together through the park by Ryou's apartment building. Light flurries of snow were tumbling from the sky, swirling around them as if they were trapped inside a snow globe. Ryou laughed cheerfully as he pushed a lock of his white hair out of his face that had been teased by the wind. Bakura gazed down at him and found that he was laughing along with the other man. When was the last time he had laughed at anything that wasn't a crude joke or a sniveling, worthless target? With Ryou, though, he found that he was just plain happy; there was no other word to describe it.

"So, Ryou," Bakura began quietly, not wanting to disturb the other's laughter but needing to ask a question that had been bothering him ever since they had left the little café hours ago, "When you said you had a vision in a church earlier, what was it you saw?"

Ryou stopped laughing, but he didn't look unhappy. Just thoughtful. "There were bright colors," he said, rubbing his thumb against Bakura's palm absently as he spoke, "And I was looking for something, I think. I remember feeling anxious. I think I was running around in some kind of cloud forest. Please don't laugh at me!" he said suddenly, sounding desperate. Ryou abruptly stopped walking, and Bakura stood and faced him as he worried his bottom lip with his teeth. "I know it sounds dumb."

"I told you that I was flying," Bakura stated simply, hooking an arm around Ryou's shoulders and bringing him in so that the smaller man's head was against his chest. It was an awkward sort of half-hug half-casual gesture, but then again, Bakura wasn't exactly an expert cuddler. "How could anything you say sound any dumber than that?"

Ryou looked up at him and seemed like he was going to argue, so Bakura silenced him with a kiss. It was abrupt and more passionate than he had intended it to be. He found that he couldn't be as aloof and cavalier around Ryou as he was around other people. Just like the spontaneous hug, he found himself craving the feeling of Ryou against him in any and every way possible. There was a hunger growing quickly inside of him, an aching desire to surround himself completely with Ryou. It was almost maddening, standing next to him, breathing in his intoxicating scent, hearing words tumble from his lips like music, and being completely unable to stop his body's immediate response. Ryou himself seemed to be perfect in every single way; everything about him made Bakura want him in ways he'd never wanted anyone before in his entire two years of experience and life. It was the way he swayed slightly as he walked, as if he was just too cheerful and bright to even appear serious in his movements. It was also the way he stared unabashedly at Bakura when he thought the other wasn't looking, raking his body from head to toe with his eyes with curiosity, fascination, wonder, and delight. It was for sure the way that he kissed in a way that was both wildly passionate and yet still sort of clumsy and shy. Ryou was everything that he himself was not; he was reserved, polite, delicate, considerate, and he sure as hell didn't kill people for a living. Bakura had let it slip before that he belonged to Millennium, but due to the lack of reaction, he was quite sure that Ryou only had a very vague idea of what being in a gang entailed. He should be terrified, angry, horrified, and disgusted at the very least.

Yet, when Bakura spoke to him and listened to him, he found that he was more at peace than he had ever been in his entire life, and he could tell that Ryou felt exactly the same way. And when Ryou pressed his parted lips to Bakura's with innocence and desire both melted into one feeling, letting his tongue dart out hesitantly to slide against Bakura's, every thought in his head slipped away until his mind was chanting "Ryou, Ryou, Ryou" over and over again like a mantra. He was gone, but he'd be damned if he couldn't take the sweet boy with him. He slid his hands into Ryou's beautiful, silky hair and pulled his head back until he was leaning all the way over Ryou to keep their mouths connected. The smaller man gasped quietly before making a small noise of protest when the kiss was broken, but when Bakura started trailing kisses down his exposed neck, he gasped quietly with barely contained pleasure.

"Bakura," he breathed, barely whispering. That little sound made Bakura's stomach tighten with desire, and before he could stop himself he had bitten a little harder than was intentional. Ryou's sharp cry of pain brought him back to reality briefly, and he was just about to apologize when Ryou pulled him back in for a hard kiss, clicking their teeth together but not caring as his tongue dove past Bakura's lips to urgently trace lines on the roof of his mouth.

So, maybe he liked it a little rough. That was certainly not a problem. No, not a problem at all.

Bakura pulled away from him again, looking around for somewhere, anywhere more private to go. Ryou seemed to be having the same exact thoughts, because he grabbed onto the collar of Bakura's trench coat and brought his attention back in line. "Yuugi's working night shift tonight," he murmured, voice thick with want. As if Bakura needed to be turned on any more than he already was, Ryou further made his point by blushing furiously and adding, "If you want go somewhere more private, I mean."

What happened after that point right up until Ryou slid his clothes off was a complete blur. One moment, they were standing in the park, both indecently aroused beyond words, and the next thing Bakura knew, he was tumbling to the floor along with the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, touching him and biting him everywhere his hands and mouth could reach. His hands trailed up and down Ryou's pale, perfect body while his mouth worked its way between those long legs, making the man under him tremble and moan wantonly. Thin, shaking fingers reached up to peel Bakura's skintight tank top from his torso, revealing hard, chiseled abs that spoke of hours upon hours of sweat and work. Those little fingers skimmed quickly up to fist in Bakura's hair when the man controlling them became too far gone to do much else than cry out as he gave in to the intense pleasure Bakura was giving him. As he climaxed, his head slammed back, hitting the floor with a dull noise that Bakura only barely heard over the heated, lusty shout of his own name.

Bakura rocked back on his heels, drinking in Ryou's disheveled appearance. His hair was tangled and matted with sweat, bent and twisted at odd angles from being laid on. His once unmarred porcelain skin was decorated with red marks and flushed all over with passion, rose colored paint on a pristine white canvas. Those crimson eyes that had captured him in that first moment were hidden behind eyelids lined with long, white lashes that fluttered as Ryou recovered from his apparently mind-bending orgasm. Then, that striking red color appeared, focused hazily on his own through a cloud of satisfaction and affection. It was the warmest, most loving look Bakura had ever seen in his entire life.

The boy was beyond perfect.

"Bakura," he whispered, reaching a hand up slowly to rest against Bakura's left pectoral, right over his heart. Ryou's hand was warm and soft, and the way his whole body seemed to hum with sex was driving Bakura insane. Yet, he remained perfectly still, riveted by the look of pure, unrestrained love Ryou was giving him.

Then, Ryou did something unexpected. He drew himself up so that they were chest to chest and hung on to Bakura's shoulders as he leaned in slowly, languidly as if he were a cat stretching out in the sun, and put his lips to Bakura's ear. "I need more of you."

Bakura thought he might climax right there on the spot, but he reigned himself in somehow. He had to be sure Ryou knew what he was suggesting. This was the innocent creature that had been laughing and holding his hand in the park not so long ago, after all. Of course, that mouth so close to his ear seemed anything but innocent as hot breath ghosted across his skin and made his nerves tingle with want, but he had to be sure. Funny, he never knew he had a conscience. "How much of me?" he asked, hanging on to Ryou's every shallow breath with desperate anticipation. The next words to fall past his lips could either break him down or push him over the edge so easily that it honestly frightened him.

"All of you."

In a flash, Bakura was on him, using his weight to press them both back down to the floor where he captured his tiny wrists in one hand and pinned them above his head. Fear momentarily registered in those expressive, red eyes, and Bakura hesitated. It was gone in an instant however, as Ryou gave him a pleading look, cheeks and nose flushed with embarrassment. "Don't stop," he pleaded quietly, arching his body up into Bakura's to coax him back into action. Stars exploded behind Bakura's eyelids as the friction caused by Ryou's movement sent electric shocks all through his body. He growled low in his throat and grabbed Ryou's hips, grinding their pelvises together roughly. If Ryou wanted all of him, then he was going to get all of him.

Ryou looked up at him, embarrassment shining in his eyes again. "Um, do you have a," he paused, struggling to fight his blush that was darkening. Bakura could clearly see his thoughts on his face. "Do you have a condom?" he finally asked, biting his lip and looking adorably, bashfully hopeful.

Bakura reached into the back pocket of his pants, pulling out a little foil package. Good thing Atem is so strict with everything, he mused as he ripped it open with his teeth, I'll make sure to thank him for giving me this later. Well worth the momentary humiliation. He handed the opened condom to Ryou, who slid it onto Bakura with trembling hands. Bakura gritted his teeth as he suppressed a shudder of pleasure.

They moved together, slowly at first. Each thrust and stroke sent waves of sensation through Bakura's body, making the edges of his vision blur until he could only see Ryou's face, glowing and beautiful. He could only hear his partner's melodic voice crying out and moaning in time with the rhythm they built together. All he could feel was the almost magical touch of Ryou's grip on his biceps, their wet skin brushing together to create a delicious, maddening friction. The memory of the taste of Ryou's mouth lingered in his. The smell of sex tainted everything. Bakura's every sense was acutely focused on the man beneath him, and his mind was so far gone that he couldn't think about anything but him. Suddenly, he felt something inside him break, and he threw his head back with a muffled gasp.

Bakura was aware of a few things at once. One, he couldn't see a thing. Two, his hands were bound tightly behind his back. And three, it was eerily quiet. It was the kind of quiet you experience when you turn off all of the appliances and electronics in your house. The absence of sound actually makes your ears hurt because it is such a foreign thing to them. The quiet was extremely unsettling. He was aware of someone standing very close to him at his side, and he knew that it was Ryou even though he couldn't see. He also knew without looking that Ryou was absolutely terrified but refused to show it. Bakura felt a small swell of pride for his stubborn partner.

"Friends, I bid you welcome on this glorious morning to an event of great tragedy and sorrow," boomed a great voice.

The noise startled Bakura, and he fought the urge to snarl. All of a sudden, he was impossibly angry. Beside him, Ryou whimpered almost inaudibly; Bakura was almost unsure that he had heard the noise at all.

"Today, we are here to witness the trial and condemnation of the sinners, Bakura and Ryou."

Bakura heard the speaker click his fingers, and then something slid away from his face. Everyone assembled in the crowd gasped. His eyelids slammed shut against the sudden onslaught of blindingly white light, but he forced them open again to take in his surroundings. He and Ryou were standing in front of a sea of people, all with snowy white hair and icy blue eyes. What was most remarkable, however, was that they all sported large, white wings that glittered with an ethereal light and sparkle.

It was also impossible to miss the fact that they all looked unbelievably pissed off. Feh.

"These two have committed an unforgivable, unthinkable sin. They have lain with each other!" accused the overly dramatic speaker, who Bakura now could see was holding a ridiculously large book.

He glared at the idiot with the book but otherwise held perfectly still and held his composure. Beside him, he could see Ryou cringe. He didn't know it was possible, but Bakura was suddenly even angrier at the stupid book guy.

"We will now hear what our Father has to say."

The being that took the dumb guy's place at the front of the crowd was beyond describing. Bakura looked up at him and instantly knew who exactly he was dealing with. God.

"Thank you, Nimbucus. Bakura, Ryou. My precious children. You, of course, know why you're here and why this has to be done. All I have to ask of you is whether or not you regret your actions. If you are repentant, there may be hope for you yet."

Bakura met his stare and was suddenly filled with a sense of purpose. Like hell he was going to repent. He knew what he had been getting himself into when this had all began. What he was doing was the most important thing he had ever done in his entire life, but he supposed that, for pretense's sake, the Lord had to ask the question anyway.

"Absolutely not," he declared, unable to keep a little bit of anger out of his voice, "I love Ryou, and no punishment you could deal me would ever make me regret loving him." He was aware that he wasn't exactly addressing the real question God had asked him, but he figured that it would be better this way. He let his hard, determined expression do the talking for him.

"The same goes for me, my Lord," came Ryou's soft, calm voice. Even though he was still trembling with dread at what was to come, he also knew that there was a greater purpose to all of this. After all, the worst had really yet to come. "I could never regret my love for Bakura."

God nodded at each of them in turn. "Then, as much as it pains me, you certainly are aware of the consequences."

Ryou screamed in agony as his wings tore themselves from his back with a nauseating ripping sound. Bakura fought through his own pain and grabbed Ryou under his arms in order to keep him from falling. Mercy, but the pain was intense. It was like nothing he had ever felt before. A low groan escaped his lips, but that was all he would allow himself. He squeezed his eyelids shut tightly, straining to support Ryou and bear the torture of the searing lacerations in his back.

"From this day forth, you are hereby banished from the great Kingdom of Heaven." Through the fog in his mind, Bakura managed to be mildly irritated that book guy was back again. Why couldn't he just keep his damn mouth shut? "May it so please God to have mercy on your poor, misguided souls so that Lucifer might not further ensnare your hearts."

Bakura felt himself being forcefully shoved backwards. He held onto Ryou tightly as they fell.


End file.
